Kitty's Deputy

by Renea Westlyn

  Milo grinned and walked on down to the telegraph office, wondering if it was time to hang his hat. He was tired, tired of chasing fellas all over the country, and tired of sleeping with one eye open. The idea of settling down with a pretty little wife to snuggle up to on cold nights, and a passel full of children to watch over and teach, seemed to be plaguing him. He needed to stuff that idea back down where it belonged and concentrate on the job at hand. A wife and children were a pleasant dream, nothing more.

  He shook the thoughts from his head as he opened the door to the telegraph office. The bell above the door rang and Mr. Turpin looked up from the desk.

  “Ah, Mr. De Luca, back already?”

  “Yes, I need to send another telegram, this one to Colorado.”

  “Right-o, what would you like it to say?” Mr. Turpin pulled a pencil from behind his ear and held it above a pad of paper.

  D.B. OREGON BOUND.

  CONFIRM LOCATION.

  - DE LUCA

  “That oughta do it, Mr. Turpin. If you could send young Ben with the response when it comes in, I’d sure appreciate it.” Gus would know who and understand what he was asking, so Milo didn’t feel the need to expand further.

  “Sure thing, Mr. De Luca. You gonna be any place particular?”

  “Thank you. I’m headed back to the bath house and then I’ll be at the inn.” Milo laid a coin down on the counter and headed back out the door.

  Milo walked into the dining room of the inn, feeling far more respectable than he had earlier in the day, when he’d been covered in travel grime. He chose a table near the window and sat facing the entrance. It wouldn’t do to be caught unaware, though he felt rather relaxed here. He’d not seen one ounce of trouble. He watched as Mrs. Dolly delivered a bowl of soup to a corner table, then turned and headed his direction.

  “Well now, I almost didn’t recognize ya, sonny.” Mrs. Dolly smiled as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Would you like the special tonight? We got chicken fried steak with mashed taters and gravy, fresh green beans, and slice of cherry pie for dessert. Or you can have the soup?”

  “Tempting as that…”

  Mrs. Dolly started laughing and pointed at the window, where two matching pairs of sapphire eyes peeked in.

  “Ben! We found him, he shaved, but it’s him.” They pointed at Milo and then ran for the entrance.

  Milo shook his head. “Mrs. Dolly, do them little fellas ever slow down?”

  Mrs. Dolly started laughing harder and held her stomach. “No sir, them ones are only still when they’re sleeping. They’re poor momma, they wear her plum out.” She pointed toward the entrance where all three boys stood waiting politely, albeit impatiently. They practically danced as they waited for Milo to meet them.

  Milo followed her finger to the boys and back again. “Why’d they stop?”

  “They know better than to run through my dining room, Mr. De Luca. Now, before I let them come over here, why don’t you tell me what you want for dinner? Cook can get it going while you conduct your business.” She winked.

  “I’ll have the special, ma’am.”

  “Smart man. Coffee, tea, or water?”

  “Coffee.”

  “I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Then she walked toward the three boys. Milo didn’t know what she said to them, but they slowly walked—in a single file line—straight to his table.

  “Evening fella’s, would you like a seat?” Milo asked and the two young ones sent pleading looks to their brother Ben as they waited for him to answer. It was then that Milo realized Ben had the same startling blue eyes. Normally, he wouldn’t have noticed such a thing. Someday these little fellas would have the ladies falling at their feet.

  “For a moment, then we gotta get home. Momma is gonna have dinner ready,” Ben told them and waited for them to sit down before he joined them. “I got your telegram. It came in right before Mr. Turpin closed up for the day.” He reached in his pocket and handed the wrinkled-up note to Milo.

  “Thank you, Ben, I appreciate you bringing it here to me,” Milo said, taking the note and tucking it into his shirt pocket.

  “Least I didn’t have to chase ya all over town this time.”

  “And we helped ya find him didn’t we, Ben?” said Bobby, turning to Milo. “Say, where’s your dirty coat?”

  “Bobby,” Ben fussed.

  “What? He said it protects his guns and he ain’t wearing it no more.”

  “Well Bobby, Mrs. Dolly runs a pretty clean establishment here. I don’t think my guns will get dirty in here and my coat did need a washing. Plus, I wouldn’t want to mess it up for her. Don’t think she’d take too kindly to that, do you?”

  “No sir, she wouldn’t,” all three boys responded.

  “It sure did need washed. You wouldn’t want my ma to have seen it.” Bobby shuddered again like he had earlier in the day, and Milo smiled.

  “Did you get your coat all dirty, Bobby?” Milo asked and a blush crept across Bobby’s little face as he hung his head.

  “He did more than get it dirty. He rolled around in a mud hole after a big rain.” Billy confirmed. “He keeps it real clean now.”

  “I bet so. Momma’s don’t like messes do they boys?”

  “No sir!” They all three said in unison.

  “We’d best get home. Ma won’t be happy if we’re late.” Ben said as he stood up.

  Milo reached in his pocket and tipped Ben, then gave a penny to Billy and Bobby. “That’s for helping Ben find me. You fella’s stay outta trouble now, and keep those coats clean.”

  “Yes sir. Thank you, sir.” They all said and then left the dining room as slowly as they’d entered it. Milo smiled, and soon as the door of the inn closed, the boys took off in a dead run. He shook his head and had to laugh at the thought: Ma’s don’t understand dirty coats.

  “Told ya them boys never slow down,” Mrs. Dolly said as she set his plate on the table.

  “How’d you get them to stop and walk in here so calmly?” Milo asked.

  “They like to visit me during the day for a treat. They won’t get one if they run in my dining room.” She winked. “Enjoy your meal, Mr. De Luca,” she said and headed back toward the kitchen.

  Milo cut into his chicken fried steak and took a bite, savoring the flavors and warmth it provided. He was curious as to what Gus had to say, but he didn’t like to eat cold food, either. He cut another piece and dipped it into the creamy gravy covered mashed potatoes before taking a bite. The food was good, really good, and Milo knew he’d sleep well tonight for sure.

  As he ate his meal, he enjoyed the homey atmosphere. Everyone knew the other and had welcomed him immediately. He imagined it was similar to having a large family dinner. Mrs. Dolly, who flit from table to table, refilling drinks and taking orders, would be the family matriarch. The one who took care of them all, making sure their bellies were full and their coffee hot. He took a drink of his now and thought back to the note in his pocket. He set his cup down and pulled it out. He didn’t look forward to heading out of such a friendly town so soon. He’d rather eat Mrs. Dolly’s fine cooking than hardtack and cold sandwiches, but he did have a job to do. At least he’d get one good night’s sleep before he set out again. He sighed and unfolded the note.

  D.B. AFTER AKECHETA JAMES.

  SILVERPINES OREGON.

  GUS

  So that’s why Bloomberg was headed to Oregon. Now, it made sense; Bloomberg had a sister, Nancy. She had been engaged to Pastor Akecheta James. Sadly, the morning before the wedding, Nancy took her own life. She’d been ill for some time, though few knew about it. Bloomberg blamed Akecheta simply because of his heritage, though he was innocent of any wrong doing and everyone knew it. Milo tucked the note back in his pocket, took one last drink of coffee, left a tip on the table for Mrs. Dolly, and headed up to bed. There was nothing more he could do tonight, and he needed rest before beginning his journey northwest. Perhaps, he’d catch a few other wanted men as he made his way across the coun
try. And maybe he’d shake the longing the town of Sweetwater had stirred up in him.

  Chapter Three

  Three days earlier.

  Kitty stood before the gravesite and listened as Father Jacobs spoke. “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid…” She wanted to rest in the words Father Jacobs shared, but her heart was broken and terribly troubled. Not only that, she was quite frightened, though she put on a tough face.

  She couldn’t believe the things she’d learned about Natalie, or that her papa had possibly been poisoned. It was true her papa had been sick and was declining, but if Natalie had poisoned him, it would have increased the speed of his sickness, taking him away from her and Abby before either were ready. Would she have ever been ready, though? She missed him. She missed Abby, too. Abby should have been with her today.

  Kitty watched as the first shovel of dirt fell upon her papa’s coffin and couldn’t remember a time she’d ever felt so alone. He had been her one true constant but now he was gone forever. She would no longer hear the tilt of Irish upon his tongue or feel the safety in his warm hugs. Papa had been the foundation on which her little family stood. How did one remain standing with the foundation missing? What was she supposed to do now?

  She knew what she was supposed to do; help lay the trap to catch Natalie and whoever arrived, and then hightail it to Oregon. Where she would marry some man she had no desire to marry, just to be near Abby. Why had she agreed to answer the advertisement when Papa had urged her to do so? She didn’t want to get married and why should she? Papa left her and Abby plenty of money to survive on.

  What if she didn’t get married? Maybe if she was late in arriving, the man would change his mind. She could refund his money. As the thought took hold, Kitty found herself liking the idea more and more, but what would she do in Oregon? She had nowhere else to go really. Abby would be married and wouldn’t need her like before. Yet, Abby was all she had left, and she’d made a vow, a promise to Miss Lucy, and for those reasons she needed to be near Abby.

  The burial service had ended and yet Kitty still remained, standing frozen in the same spot. She had effectively drowned out Natalie’s ridiculous wailing. The woman was sure putting on a good show. If only everyone knew what a fraud she was. Kitty felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Father Jacobs standing next to her.

  “It’s time to go, dear. Your pa is with the Lord now, you can take comfort in that,” he said.

  “I know, Father Jacobs, I just miss him, and I have a whole lot on my mind,” Kitty explained, turning from the grave that now held her papa. How would she ever get over losing him? Everyone she had ever loved, minus Abby, had left her. They always leave, she thought. No, she wouldn’t be giving her heart to anyone else, not even Mr. Black, though she’d agreed to marry him. It simply hurt too much.

  “How ‘bout we get us some fresh lemonade and talk a bit? I’m a pretty good listener and I’d like a moment to pray for you before you begin your new adventure.” Father Jacobs smiled that big toothy smile and, though she had wanted to be alone, she couldn’t turn him down. It might be the last time she saw him.

  “Thank you, I’d like that, Father Jacobs,” Kitty said and followed him into the large church for a bit of refreshment. The community had come together to mourn the loss of her papa. Kitty was thankful they’d come to show their respects; her papa had been loved.

  She didn’t have to worry about Natalie yet as she was too busy playing the grieving widow and soaking up all the attention it provided. Kitty had to give it to her, she was a pretty good actress.

  For a brief moment, Kitty wondered what would happen to Natalie. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to act her way out of all the allegations against her. Yet, what would they do with Natalie once her involvement was proven? She’d never heard of a woman going to jail before.

  “Father Jacobs, do you know what will happen to her,” she nodded toward Natalie, “tomorrow?”

  “No, Miss O’Byrne. I’m not certain. Though, I shall spend my day praying for your safety and her soul,” he said as he took a sip of the tart lemonade and made a face. “That first drink gets me every time.” He smacked his lips together.

  Kitty grinned at him, taking a sip of her own, her eyes watering slightly. He was such a sweet old man. She would miss him. “Father Jacobs, would you like me to write to you once I’m settled?”

  “Why, I would love that. After all, I’ve known ya since you were a wee babe. I’d like to know that you are safe and happy and how Miss Abby is fairing.”

  “Then, I shall.”

  Kitty sat alone at the dining room table, pushing the breakfast Ms. Lena had served her around the plate with her fork. She thought the enormity of her grief would have come crashing in on her like the waves from the Georgia hurricane that destroyed the lives of more than 170 people last year, ripping some of them away into watery graves. Lost forever. Yet only single tears fell, one by one. She brushed them away, perhaps a little too harshly, frustrated by their appearance. She didn’t want them there, falling from her eyes and sticking to her cheeks, glistening like beacons announcing her pain for all the world to see. Not that anyone was there.

  Kitty had stopped crying the day Miss Lucy died. She’d had to take care of Abby, to protect her, that meant she had to be strong. She had no time for tears, what was the point in them anyway, and why were these rogue ones falling now? There was no one to comfort her, even if she were to let them fall without abandon. Her papa wasn’t there to soothe her fears anymore. It was just her, alone. In an empty house with an evil woman. The silence of her pain and fears echoed in her ears like her fork scraping against the China plate.

  “Are you going to eat your breakfast or play with it?” Natalie demanded.

  Startled, Kitty looked up, she hadn’t heard Natalie enter the room. At least the woman was wearing mourning clothes today.

  “Sorry, I was lost in thought, I guess,” Kitty said.

  “Well, you should have eaten it. It’s probably long cold by now.” Natalie said as Ms. Lena entered the room and poured her a cup of hot tea. “You can take Kitty’s plate, she’s finished, and I cannot handle the screeching of that fork!”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Ms. Lena said as she approached and retrieved the plate. Kitty didn’t care. She knew she should have eaten. Ms. Lena was the best cook in the county, but Kitty’s stomach had only rolled and rebelled. Many people had tried to steal Ms. Lena away from them but Papa had enjoyed her food too much to let that happen. The fact that both his girls were equally fond of Ms. Lena perhaps had a bit of sway, too.

  Kitty wondered if the new owners would be keeping Ms. Lena or if the older woman had other plans, perhaps she’d move on to Tennessee where some of her family lived. They hadn’t discussed it. She’d ask her later that day. Maybe, if she gave Ms. Lena the funds that had been set aside for Natalie, she could retire and enjoy growing old with her family nearby.

  She looked up then to see Natalie had not taken her seat, but stood near the window, tea cup in hand as she looked out. Kitty knew she was expecting someone and probably hoping that particular someone did not arrive until after Mr. Allen had read Papa’s will.

  “When is that incompetent lawyer of your father’s supposed to arrive?” Natalie asked.

  “He did not give me a time. He only said today,” Kitty said. “Did you have plans?”

  “Well, no, but I don’t want to be kept waiting all day, either,” Natalie fussed, as she fiddled with the rim of her teacup.

  Kitty was relieved to see that she wasn’t the only nervous one, although for an entirely different matter. She knew Mr. Allen would be arriving shortly, before the train was due in town. They would be inside going over the details of her papa’s estate. Sheriff Riley and his men would be watching the train depot and spaced out along the way to Rosendale. Detective Gibson was out there somewhere, too, along with the newly deputized B
art Jones. She was entrusting her life into the hands of these few men. Papa had trusted them and that was good enough for her.

  “It’s about time,” Natalie said as she stepped away from the window, set her teacup down, and smoothed out her black mourning dress. Kitty could hear the horse approaching and knew without standing that Mr. Allen had arrived, and within ten minutes she was sure to hear the train whistle. It was most likely an inappropriate thought, but she was looking forward to watching Natalie squirm after all the woman had put her family through.

  She heard the knock at the door but remained seated, knowing Ms. Lena would see Mr. Allen in. Natalie sat down at the table and twiddled with her napkin, though she had eaten no breakfast, either.

  Ms. Lena stepped into the dining room. “Mr. Allen is here to see you, Ma’am.”

  Natalie stood as he walked with his briefcase in hand, and still Kitty chose to remain seated. She saw no reason to stand.

  “Mrs. O’Byrne, thank you for seeing me today,” Mr. Allen said.

  “Well, you didn’t give me much of a choice, now did you? What I’d like to know is why do we have to discuss these matters today? My poor husband was only laid to rest yesterday,” Natalie said, and Kitty watched as the pretend tears began to well up in Natalie’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but there are matters that must be immediately addressed. Shall we sit?” asked Mr. Allen.

  “Very well.” Natalie groaned.

  Mr. Allen laid his briefcase on the table and unlatched it, removing the documents and latching it back before setting it aside. He opened a folder and pulled out a sheaf of documents.

  “This is the last will and testament of Mr. Angus Patrick O’Byrne of Atlanta, Georgia, dated April first, eighteen-ninety-nine.” Mr. Allen cleared his throat. “As my lovely daughters, Miss Kathleen Elizabeth O’Byrne and Miss Abigail Jane O’Byrne, will both marry this summer, I have sold Rosendale plantation to Mr. Barnaby Danvers.”